My Hosea
by FFcrazy15
Summary: Short one-shot I thought of. Christian/Jewish base; don't like, don't read. For their one-year anniversary, Howard surprises Bernadette with an honesty that's hard to forget.


Disclaimer: I don't own the Big Bang Theory. I make no money off of this. No copyright infringement intended.

**BBT**

_One-year-anniversary. _It was a phrase that made Bernadette Rostenkowski-Wolowitz's heart tremble with joy. A full year she and Howard had been married; a full year of being man and wife. It was a bond that had drawn them even closer than before: closest companions, greatest protectors, and utterly devoted to one another. Howard had proven himself, after a bit of a stumbling beginning, to be a superb husband, treating Bernadette with all the honor and kindness she deserved.

Speaking of her husband, he was currently standing up, setting his fork down onto the fancy plate. "I'm going to use the restroom," he said.

"Alright," she said, smiling happily. He was so kind… So different from when they'd first met. The transformation was incredible.

He grinned back at her. "Be right back." Even the simplest sentences held an intimacy to them that the strangers around them couldn't quite put a finger on.

The day had been absolutely wonderful. Howard had come home as soon as possible from work; they'd gone to all the scenic locations; and now, they were on a special date at the Cheesecake factory, at the same table as where they'd first been introduced to each other. Romantic to the extent that anyone who'd never really taken the time to know Howard Wolowitz would have thought incapable for him. But Bernadette knew her husband better than that.

A soft thumping startled her from her reverie, and she looked over, surprised. Howard was tapping the microphone. "Everyone, excuse me, your attention please."

She started to stand, wondering what in the world he was doing. His eyes caught hers, and he smiled, assuring her that this was all intentional. She sat down, surprised and a little apprehensive.

As the crowds turned to look, Howard coughed slightly into the microphone. "Good evening, folks. How're you all doing?" A chorus of faint 'fine's came from the audience. "Good to hear it. Well, just thought you should all know that tonight's the one-year anniversary of my wife Bernadette and me." Applause and cheers rang out, and he smiled, allowing them to grow and then die down again. "Well, as you may or may not know, the traditional first-year anniversary gift is one made of paper, so I decided to write a little speech." He pulled a set of notecards out from his pocket, cleared his throat again, and then looked over at his wife.

"Bernadette. I know every guy says this to his wife, but no one means it as much as I do: life was not the same before I met you." He looks around at the crowd again. "I wasn't what you'd call a real 'gentleman.' As a matter of fact, I was sort of a sleaze. I'd go after any girl, anywhere. I didn't care about them at all; I treated women like objects. I didn't care about anyone or anything but myself.

"I have this friend that I've always sort of looked up to. In all the years I've known him, he's only had a few real, serious girlfriends, and he's kept them for a long time. He treated them like a guy should treat a woman. He'd you know, buy them flowers and take them out to dinner, but he did more than that. He brought one back a snowflake from the Arctic-" The crowd 'awww!'d at that, and he waved his hands. "I know, I know. But I gave Bernie a star that's been in space, so there! Anyway, this friend of mine, he was so loyal to his girlfriends that even when one was halfway across the world, he wouldn't sleep with another woman. I always wanted a relationship like that, but I never believed I could have one. I always thought, 'what girl would ever want _me, _a disgusting dirtbag with no self-esteem, stature, or pretty much anything else worth having."

Again, he looked at Bernadette. "And then, I met you. And you, Bernadette, you were different. You didn't let me use you; you had more self-worth than that. You made me be a real man. I- I'm not good with words, so I think I'll let someone else do it for me."

He pulled out a sheet of folded up paper from his pocket. "My wife knows this story, since she reads her Bible religiously. Terrible pun absolutely intended." He opened his mouth to speak, and then held up a finger, pulling his yarmulke out of his pocket. The crowds laughed, as did Bernadette. Her heart was nearly floating with hope. If he was going to read what she thought he was…

Howard unfolded the paper and cleared his throat. _"When the Lord first began speaking to Israel through Hosea, he said to him, "Go and marry a prostitute, so that some of her children will be conceived in prostitution."" _He looked up. "Hosea was supposedly a pretty good guy. A prophet, in our religions. He followed orders and married someone so low in virtue that most people would hate to even be seen with her. But he didn't care. He loved her anyway, despite her flaws, her poor decisions, even her past. He loved her without any reservations." Howard, a lump in his throat, looked straight into his wife's eyes. "You were my Hosea, Bernadette."

Tears sparkling in her eyes, Bernadette stood and ran up to him, pulling him into a hug. "Always," she whispered.


End file.
